


Twisted Fantasy

by ObserverFuck



Category: Tribe Twelve
Genre: Blood and Gore, Fantasizing, Gore, Masturbation, Other, Sadism, Sexual Fantasy, This is fucked up but please don't kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19723909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObserverFuck/pseuds/ObserverFuck
Summary: There was no way hurting people was giving him any kind of positive feelings... right?





	Twisted Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt given to me in a Discord server: Milo is totally into sadism, so make it really messed up.
> 
> I did what I could. :) To the one who helped me with the title, (I won't give out names) big thanks!
> 
> ~GORE WARNING: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK~

Milo put the gun down, his breaths coming in uneven pants. He ran over to his mother, mumbling every apology his brain could summon. He stood slowly, turning to run. He needed to go. He needed to be anywhere but here, so he ran. He let his legs carry him to the woods where he slowed to catch his breath. He jumped at every little snap of twig as he walked. His conscience was more troubled than it had been in years. For God's sake, he had just killed his own mother, but there was more than that bugging him on this cool, summer night.

The undeniable sadness he felt because of his actions was barely short of suffocating, but that wasn't the only feeling swimming around within him. Knowing that he had pleased someone by hurting someone else seemed to nag at his brain, sending a strange sensation down his spine. He shuddered just thinking about it. What was with him...? This wasn't exactly a foreign feeling, but it was never this strong before. He tried to shut it out, tried to ignore it, but he couldn't control the strange heat in his gut he felt when thinking about it. He had hurt someone else, and he felt awful, but he also felt good...?

Milo shook his head as though trying to shake the terrible thought away from his mind completely. There was no way hurting people was giving him any kind of positive feelings... right? He closed his eyes tight and leaned against a nearby tree. He took a deep breath and decided to let his mind wander for only a moment. As bad of an idea as it was, he let down his guard, no longer shutting out any of the terrible thoughts that plagued his mind. He saw many disturbing images flash before him; the visualization of him swinging his hand down to collide with a stranger's skin, or aggressively wringing his hands around a stranger's neck. He saw himself inflicting all kinds of pain on people he had never even encountered before, or at least he didn't remember encountering them. Lastly, he saw himself aiming a gun at a human figure trying to hide away in the shadows.

The sound of the gunshot firing in his mind made him smirk as he exhaled, feeling that same strange heat shoot straight to his groin. Milo was too far gone at this point, too lost in his twisted fantasy world to realize how sick the situation really was. He continued to visualize as he undid his belt, licking his lips while doing so. He unbuttoned his jeans and slipped a hand in, allowing it to pursue its way below the waistband of his boxers. He wrapped his fingers around the hardened length of his cock, sighing in relief as he conjured up more corrupt fantasies.

_A pretty stranger tied to a chair, their hair being violently yanked to earn a sound of pain._

Milo started to move his hand at a steady pace. A soft groan escaped him as he leaned more of his weight on the tree's rough surface.

_He used a few tools that seemed to become more extreme the longer the little torture session went on; a small knife, a machete, a metal bat..._

More throaty sounds of pleasure tumbled from Milo's lips as he sped up the pace of his hand, another shiver running down his spine as his thoughts continued.

_He kept on with his sadistic actions, moving even closer to the stranger. He raised a hand to their face, and ever so slowly, he began to dig his fingers into the glazed, teary eyes that looked up at him pleadingly. An agonizing scream rang in his ears._

The precum collecting at the head of Milo's dick trickled down over his fingers. Using this to his advantage, he worked with the slickness to jerk himself off quicker.

_The stranger was hardly conscious, their mouth hanging open and their whole body quivering in pain. The hot mix of blood and tears dripped from Milo's fingers while the stranger's eyes remained barely attached, hanging on by nothing more than their optical nerve. Teeth showing in a maniacal grin, he brought his hand up to his face, flicking his tongue over a bloody fingertip to taste the iron-like flavor._

Milo's thighs were trembling. He let himself slide down onto the moist floor of the woods as he paced his hand even faster. He had all but given up on holding back any moans and grunts of pleasure, and he could tell he was getting close.

_Taking the machete once more, Milo leaned down to look at the mutilated face of the person in the chair. He chuckled, admiring his work. Then, he pulled back the sharp, metal weapon and drove it straight into the stranger's throat. The disgustingly wet, strangled noises they made gave him satisfaction like nothing else ever had. Blood spattered everywhere, making the room look like a cheesy horror movie set, and Milo didn't even bother to wipe the blood off of his face before leaving the stranger in whatever empty space they had been occupying._

With one last moan, Milo came harder than he ever had in his entire life. The white substance spurted over his hand and onto the soil below him. He gave a few more rough pumps of his fist before completely relaxing against the tree, catching his breath.

He didn't know how long he stayed there afterward. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but Milo knew he needed to go before daylight broke. He fixed his disheveled clothing and stood, chuckling quietly to himself. He had run into those woods in a panicked state just hours earlier. He had run into those woods as Milo asher, but as his soft chuckles slowly fell back into silence, Milo left those woods as a whole different person. He left those woods as Mr. Scars.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. Please don't come after me-


End file.
